


With You

by purgtory (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Tumblr: spnhiatuscreations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 08:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7795210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/purgtory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short, fluffy fic about Dean and Cas falling in love. Made for SPN Hiatus Creations on tumblr, with the prompt "I could go with you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	With You

Dean looked into the fridge, only to see two salads made in preparation for dinner (courtesy of his mother and brother), as well as a distinct lack of dessert. That was a worry, considering that they were on holiday. Things weren’t that different to how the usually were between cases, but for Dean, holidays equals dessert every night.

Dean hunted down his brother, ready to punish him for forgetting the pie. He headed straight for the library, as he was willing to be a pie – that was, if he’d had one – that his brother would be there, reading up on one nerdy thing or another.

His hunch was spot on, as he found Sam reading a thick, dusty volume about Scandinavian folklore. Interesting stuff. After jokingly yelling at his brother to ‘remember his damn pie,’ Dean decided that he couldn’t be stuffed to make his own pie, and instead was going to go into town and get one.

He figured he should probably get some other stuff on the way, so he stopped by Mary’s room to see if she needed anything. She said she was fine, although she could do with some new shampoo. Dean smiled, knowing that he’d get her shampoo made of liquid gold if she asked for it. He swung by his own room to pick up his wallet, pausing only for a fond glance at the Star Wars poster he’d found in the newspaper (Sam would never know).

The last stop before he left was the room next to his – Cas’s. The man was lying contentedly on the bed, reading some book with a plain blue the cover, entitled “Southern Skies.” As Cas had mentioned earlier, it was so little-known that it was one of the few existing novels that Metatron hadn’t zapped into his head that one time.

“Hey Cas. How’s the book?”

“It’s quite enjoyable, although somewhat predictable. Is there anything you need?”

“I was about to ask you the same question. Want me to get anything for you while I’m out.”

“No thank-you, Dean.”

“Okie dokie. See you when I get back.”

“I could…come with you?”

Dean couldn’t help be glad. He just sometimes needed the reminder – Cas likes being here, likes being with them. He’s not going to flap off to someplace, not without Dean.

“Yeah, sure.”

And maybe Dean wanted Cas with him, too.

* * *

Dean peaked over at the magazine Cas was reading. It was a tourism magazine or something, with really good photographs of forests and nice houses and beaches, things like that. There were articles too, about the history of the place or whatever. Somehow, Dean generally opted for reading whatever Cas was reading over the guy’s shoulder, rather than whatever book or article he’d been reading before Cas sat down beside him.

Dean had initially worried that he might annoy Cas by creepily looking over him, but it had become a habit and Cas hadn’t told him to go away yet. It was strangely comfortable, sitting side by side on the couch with a magazine stretched over their laps. Natural, in a weird sort of way.

The page that caught both their eyes was one about Paris, with photographs of a bunch of different places and some information about each one. The Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, the Louvre. All shining, beautiful, and exotic to Dean, a man who knew the USA back to front but hadn’t been to another country – apart from Canada once when he was six. Cas was obviously enchanted as well, his nose sinking slightly closer to the page.

Cas’s eyes kept darting back to one of the simpler photos, a picture of a busy street in the early evening. There were heaps of people bustling down the wide street, laden with shopping bags and smiles. Shop windows blasted boxes of light onto the otherwise dark street, but strings of lights were hanging between buildings high above the crowd.

Dean imagined them, the two of them, together on that busy, foreign street. Visiting tourist traps, buying ridiculously expensive coffee, sipping it as they look onto the river. Corny stuff like that.

It occurred to him that it would be kinda romantic, and Dean realised he didn’t even care. Maybe he’d even enjoy it a little. Being able to look into those eyes for a little longer than he’d usually let himself. Grabbing hold of Cas’s hand and running along the street.

Dean had known for a little while that he was probably a little in love.

“France looks lovely.”

“Haven’t you been? Surely, on all your angelic travels…”

“I saw it, of course, but I never physically went there. Everything was happening, well, wherever you and Sam where.”

“You know…I could go? With you?”

Cas looked a bit stunned for a moment.

“That would be very enjoyable, Dean. But I thought that you didn’t like flying?”

“Anything for you, Cas.”

“You do spoil me so, Dean Winchester.”

And maybe Dean hoped that Cas was a little in love too.

* * *

The four of them stopped to get food at a diner somewhere in the middle of Idaho. Sam and Mary got healthy salads, Cas got the day’s special (a steak sandwich), and Dean got one of the burgers. For such a run-down joint, the food wasn’t half bad, and they left tired, sleepy and full. Dean drove for the next hour until they reached a decent motel a little after 10.

Judging by the number of yawns he had heard during the drive, Dean figured that crashing at the motel was probably the best bet. He took the turn and pulled into the carpark, shutting off the engine. He opened the door as quietly as he could, and walked quickly through the chilly night to the admin building.

The guy at the desk looked to be in his early twenties, and glanced up from a very stressful-looking textbook when Dean entered. After Dean apologised for interrupting, he requested their usual two rooms, each with two singles. They sometimes got three rooms, but tried to avoid it when possible. Mary generally preferred to share a room than use any more stolen money than necessary.

The guy immediately assumed a worried look, telling Dean that they only had one room with two singles available. The man asked him if they wanted to get a room with a double instead. Dean felt the exhaustion dragging his eyelids down and just said yes.

He handed over his fake credit card and took both sets of keys before he realised that there was only one combination of people that would sleep in the double together, and it wasn’t him and Sam.

When he got to the car again, the others were fading fast. Dean apologetically explained the situation, and everyone told him not to worry about it.

“I could go, um, with…you? Dean?”

Dean’s heart skipped a little at Cas’s suggestion. He might not have been the only one hoping.

“Okay, sounds good.”

The four of them retrieved their bags and said goodbyes as they plodded to their respective rooms. Cas leant his head against Dean’s shoulder as he wrangled the lock, staying close as they let themselves in and threw their bags on the table.

And maybe the exhaustion was slowly discarded in favour of wakefulness, and the pair gently, tenderly tumbled into a sweet exchange of breath and kisses, etching that night into their memories.

And maybe they both said what they’d known for a long time.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


End file.
